Toll
by Carol
Summary: Natasha comforts Steve after a failed mission to find Bucky leaves the super soldier broken and hopeless


Natasha perched on the edge of her seat, staring eagerly at the mammoth television in the living room of Stark Tower. "This is the best part of the movie, Cap. You gotta watch this."

The only response she received from Steve was a ragged groan of pain. Her attention was immediately diverted to the captain, who was stretched out stiffly on the couch, a protective arm wrapped around his abdomen even in sleep. She suddenly felt guilty for dragging him out of the comfort of his bedroom to join her for movie night, even if they were the only two in the tower. But he'd been cooped up in his room ever since another mission to find Bucky had ended with the super soldier badly beaten, both physically and emotionally. The months of searching and searching for his best friend had really taken their toll on Steve and his body was barely able to keep up. The soldier had put on a brave face the last couple of months, but they she could tell the lack of success was really starting to bring him down.

Steve shivered and a wince flashed across his handsome face. Natasha grabbed a folded up blanket from the foot of the couch and spread it over him, making sure he was tucked in from neck to toe. He sighed and curled into the warmth of the blanket, but still didn't wake up. She took a second to examine the nasty bump and jagged cut that still marred the left side of his forehead. She knew the serum would mend them both in time, but it was taking its sweet time and the injuries still looked incredibly tender. And painful. She ran a delicate finger over the bump and Steve's breath hitched.

"Sorry," she said softly, whisping her fingers off his forehead and into his hair, ruffling the soft strands between her fingers for a few moments before settling back into her own chair.

She turned her attention back to the movie, grabbing the remote to rewind it back a few minutes to the part she missed. Silence washed over the living room, punctuated only by the sound of Steve breathing. His air was coming in short, raspy puffs, no doubt from trying to breathe around broken ribs. She frowned, glancing over at him once again, but he hadn't moved a muscle. He was still sacked out on the couch, dead to the world. Hopefully he was getting deep, healing sleep, the kind that would restore the serum to full strength and repair his broken body.

Natasha pressed play on the remote and geared up once again for her favorite scene, turning the volume up slightly so she could get the full effect. But the cry that suddenly exploded out of Steve's mouth was louder. It was a horrible wail that spoke of deep, excruciating pain.

"Steve!" She turned the television off altogether and hurried to the super soldier's side. He was still asleep, but in the throes of a terrible nightmare. His forehead was beaded with sweat and his chest was bouncing with jagged, shallow breaths that sounded like he was having a panic attack. But the thing that made her own heart stop were the tracks of tears rolling down steadily from his closed eyes. The wet tracks illuminated the cuts and bruises on his face and made him appear much younger and more vulnerable than she was used to seeing him. "Aw, Rogers," she whispered to herself, resting her hand against his shoulder, not wanting to touch him anywhere else for fear of hurting him.

Steve violently jerked and groaned. "Bucky, no!" he choked out between falling tears.

"Hey, hey, Steve, wake up," urged Natasha, running the back of her hand tenderly down his cheek, wiping away the wetness of his tears.

"No, please," he sighed breathlessly.

She grasped his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's just a dream, Steve. You're dreaming. You need to wake up."

Steve's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering as he struggled to wake up.

"That's it, open those eyes baby blues, Cap. Come on, take my breath away."

Steve's eyes suddenly opened and stayed open, his whole body jerking in surprise as he tried to orient himself.

"You're okay," said Natasha, letting go of his hand and backing away a few inches to give him some space.

Steve blinked, a confused wince crossing his features as he took in his surroundings and her. "Nat?" he gasped with a shiver, pulling the blanket up tighter around himself like he was freezing. "What happened?"

"Fell asleep on me. Kinda hurts a girl's feelings."

Steve hastily brought his hands up to his face to wipe away the tears he suddenly realized were there. His face reddened in embarrassment as he tried to sniffle the rest of the mess away. "Sorry. Sorry I just…it's been a long couple of weeks."

"You don't have to apologize, Steve. I don't sleep so good either sometimes. Dreams have a way of turning into nightmares."

"It wasn't a dream," said Steve, falling back against his pillow and throwing his arm across his face, his Adam's apple bobbing as if he were trying to swallow the last remnants of the terror away. "It's what really happened."

"Steve.."

Steve let his arm drop and to Natasha's horror, she saw his eyes were reddened and brimming with tears once again. "I let him fall, Nat. That's bad enough but…he didn't even die. At least he would've been at peace. Not this thing they made him into. All the things they made him do. All the people they made him kill." Steve sniffled, unable to hold back the emotion as the tears spilled down his cheeks. "It's my fault. It's my fault all this happened to him."

"Steve, it's not," said Natasha, inching back to him and bracing a gentle arm across his chest. "We've been through this before. You didn't do this. This was Hydra. This was them. This was all on them."

"Doesn't matter," said Steve, shaking his head, tears continuing to fall. "I let him down. His whole life he protected me and the one time it was up to me to protect him, I failed him."

"Stop with the pity party, Rogers," said Natasha, not willing to hear anymore of his self torture. "The past is the past. All you can do is move forward. Find him. Save him."

"What if I can't?" whispered Steve.

"Well, that's just crazy talk. You really think there's anywhere in the world Barnes can hide where you won't find him?"

"They turned him into a monster."

"So turn him back into a human. You can get through to him. You did it before. He would've killed you otherwise. You can save him."

"I don't know how."

Natasha moved her hand from his chest to his cheek, cupping it gently. "Just don't give up on him. And don't give up on yourself. You can't just disappear in all of this. You have to keep yourself whole. Take care of yourself."

"But Bucky.."

"Bucky needs you, all of you, if he has any hope of getting better. That means Steve Rogers, well rested, well fed. Mentally sound."

Steve chuckled. "I'm not sure that last one's ever going to happen."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Two out of three ain't bad."

Steve reached out from the blanket with one hand and clasped onto Natasha's arm. "Thanks."

"You'd do the same for me. Hell, you have."

Steve flashed her a small tired smile as his eyelids began to droop.

Natasha gently pulled Steve's hand off of her arm and tucked it back under the covers. "Go back to sleep. No more nightmares this time. That's an order."

"I give the orders around here," remarked Steve tiredly, his eyes drifting shut, his body sagging into the couch

"Not today, Rogers," she whispered, bringing the blanket up tighter around his body. "Not today."

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured as he fell back asleep.

Natasha pressed a tender kiss to his forehead and then returned to her chair, restarting the movie, but making sure to keep an ear and an eye out for Steve. But he didn't so much as stir for the rest of the night.

She stayed up to make sure.

That's All Folks!


End file.
